


Freedom! '90

by GlitterMouth



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 19:04:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15892182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterMouth/pseuds/GlitterMouth
Summary: Beca has a message. Maybe.





	Freedom! '90

There were overt reasons for choosing that song. _I won’t let you down. I will not give you up. It’s the one good thing that I’ve got._ It’s an obvious choice for a love song to your friends. You’d have to be real dense to miss it. But she almost didn’t do it. She had chosen to do the opening set, but she almost chickened out on the song because of the unspoken, or rather unsung, meanings in that song. _There’s someone I forgot to be._ It was a kind of see it if you want to message. And Beca made the choice to put it out there. Sure, it was a small, barely recognizable gesture but how many life changing things was she expected to go through at once? It was one tiny step forward and now that it was over she could not think about it for a while. It was then that she’d realized her mistake.

They were still on stage when she saw Chloe looking at her. Her head was tilted contemplatively and, most telling, she wore the smallest, smuggest smirk that Beca thought she may have been practicing it. Beca quickly looked away. Of course. Chloe. Chloe the virtuoso of music trivia. All the Bellas knew music; they loved it and understood it. Chloe though, she lived it and was, as Beca often insisted, disturbingly obsessed about it. So why, Beca wondered as she internally smacked herself, did she not realize Chloe would instantly pick up on the OTHER stuff she was, maybe, trying to say with that song? Beca, firmly ignoring the small voice inside of her head telling her she knew exactly what she was doing, decided the best course of action would be to go back stage and just avoid Chloe for the rest of their lives. The shared apartment would be tricky to navigate but she could work those details out later. So she exited, dodged open guitar cases and people congratulating her, and made a beeline to the greenroom bathroom.

She stayed in there for a full five minutes. She cared very little about whatever speculation Amy was bound to be making about her digestive health. Beca needed a plan because Chloe could say a lot with a look and what she got from that look on stage was that she was going to be questioned – immediately probably – about that song. The trouble was that if she had not been able to come up with a plan for the last seven years, it was unlikely she was going to decide on something right then in the middle of a graffitied bathroom. She sighed; she knew she was just going to have to wing it. Or maybe, she thought as she turned the handle to leave, I’m just being totally paranoid.

“BAH!” She had nearly walked right into Chloe. Chloe, who had clearly been waiting for her, just stared at Beca; there was barely an inch between them. Beca was panicking, looking everywhere but at Chloe. She tried to back away but couldn’t; she was cornered by her, once again, in a bathroom about to have another conversation she did not want to have.

“Do you, uh,” Beca gestured awkwardly to toilet, “need to use the…bathroom?” Chloe ignored this.

“Beca.” Somehow, the sound of her voice grounded her. She stopped fidgeting and finally looked back at her friend. And what she saw there was the same love and concern and joy that she always found. She felt braver; Chloe would know what to do.

“So,” a faint smirk – not mocking, just knowing – lifted the corners of Chloe’s mouth, “Freedom 90?”

“Uh-huh.” The smirk spread into a smile – radiant and promising – and Beca thought stupidly of a rainbow.

“Let’s take a walk, Bec.” Chloe reached out her hand; Beca swallowed and took it. And she followed Chloe, to where, she did not know, but she could worry about that later.


End file.
